


Year Zero

by ivorygates



Series: Across Five Aprils [2]
Category: Stargate (1994), Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Animal Death, Daniverse, Gen, Girl!Daniel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-25 14:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorygates/pseuds/ivorygates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Daniverse version of "Stargate-the-Movie"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Year Zero

Her name is Danielle Jackson.

She has doctorates in archeology, anthropology, ancient history, and linguistics.

She speaks thirty-six languages.

She's an expert in ancient Egyptian cultures.

She's 25 years old.  
  
She left a prestigious position as a research fellow at the Oriental Institute of Chicago to become a teaching assistant at the University of California at Berkeley.

She couldn't get a better job.

Dr. Jackson believes that the Earth was once inhabited -- ruled -- by aliens from outer space.

That the Pyramids are far older than anyone believes.

And that most people are incredibly stupid.

And even though she has tried not to let anyone know that she believes the first thing, and has spent more than seven years documenting the second thing -- without making a public proclamation of her theory -- it is the third thing that has brought her to the verge of termination in her current position.

She has been at Berkeley for eight months. In all of that time she has been constantly at the edge of being fired. She doesn't fit in. She doesn't like anyone here, and no one likes her. She's managed to keep the job because the professor she's assisting is writing a book on Fourth Dynasty burial practices, and she's editing his manuscript.

In her not-very-well-concealed opinion, he's an idiot.

Two weeks ago she made a series of posts to Archaeology-L, one of the academic list-serves, pillorying Colonel Vyse's forgery of quarrymen's inscriptions on the Great Pyramid using material – misspelled material – from Wilkinson's First Edition _Materia Hieroglphyica._ Despite which, the academic community continues to, as it has from the time of their 'discovery', to take the Vyse inscriptions as unassailable Holy Writ. From there, she argued not only that the Great Pyramid was -- must be -- far older than it has always been dated to – but that their entire understanding of Egyptian culture desperately needs to be re-examined. Every other culture anyone had ever studied had begun, evolved, grown, decayed.

Not Egypt's. It had simply… appeared, between one moment and the next, gone on unchangingly for over five thousand years, and at last been destroyed by Roman occupation, without ever really changing or evolving in the slightest. That wasn't a living culture. That wasn't a human culture. What it was, was the greatest riddle on Earth, and nobody cared.

She'd posted under a nonce-name, of course, but it hadn't helped. Someone else on the list had found out who _MAATSCRIBE@BELLSOUTH.NET_ really was, and sent copies of her posts to the Chancellor's office.

She's under review.

She's probably going to be bounced at the end of the term. If they wait that long. Her professor has already gone on at her about the possibility that she's introduced dating errors into his manuscript because of her bizarre theories. As if his pile of drool isn't one long dating error already. The man barely knows the difference between New Kingdom and Old Kingdom. On a good day.

It's time to admit that her life is just about officially over. She might be able to scrape together enough for a one-way ticket to Egypt plus a bit of living expenses; her parents' estate is just about gone, but she should be able to get a job there. Teaching English if nothing else. Maybe she can join one of the digs. God knows she has the skills.

She'd like to go back to Egypt.

Her answers might be there.

#

She's in the library, researching -- more proofs for a paper she's never going to write -- when a page finds her with an urgent message. Report to the Chancellor's Office. Now.

She's supposed to be teaching a class in fifteen minutes.

She runs across the campus, backpack bouncing, and makes it to the Chancellor's office about the time she should have been showing the first slide. The secretary motions her inside.

The Chancellor is sitting behind her desk, looking as if she never wishes to see Danielle again.

Beside her is an elegant silver-haired woman in an expensive suit, holding a leather portfolio on her lap.

"This is Dr. Catherine Langford, Dr. Jackson. I think you should listen carefully to what she has to say."

She's puzzled. She thought Langford might be a member of the disciplinary committee she hadn't met yet, but it doesn't sound like it.

Or maybe she is, because the next thing that happens is that Dr. Langford opens her portfolio and holds out a sheaf of print-outs. Dani barely has to glance at them to recognize her posts to Archaeology-L.

"Dr. Jackson, why did you write these?"

First language, German. That's obvious; she still has a strong accent. Learned English late, and after several other languages. But German is predominate; she still thinks in that language.

"I was drunk."

She sees the Chancellor twitch.

Definitely time to go looking for another job.

Doesn't faze Langford, though.

"So, you don't believe it."

"No, in fact it's all true. Vyse was a forger and a crank, and nobody will admit it. Egyptian civilization is anomalous, and nobody knows why. The Great Pyramid is far older than it's believed to be -- in fact, Egyptian scholarship is _riddled_ with dating anomalies. There's more energy spent in explaining the anomalies away than in taking an actual look at the data."

Langford smiles. "If you'd like to prove that your theories are right, I have a job for you."

"A job? What?"

"I'd like you to translate something."

"Well, where is it?"

"It isn't here. You'll have to come see it."

"Now?"

"We're in a hurry, Dr. Jackson."

"Okay," she says. She looks at the Chancellor. "I quit."

"I'd hoped you would," the Chancellor says sourly.

#

She and Dr. Langford walk out of the building together. Dr. Langford hands her a card. "You can ship anything you need to bring with you to this address." She hands her an envelope. "And here are your travel orders."

When they reach the street, she sees Dr. Langford's car. It's grey. There's a driver and an escort.

They're both wearing uniforms.

Air Force uniforms.

What has she just gotten herself into?

As the car drives away, she tears open the envelope.

She is going to Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Tomorrow night.

#

She spends the entire rest of the day, that night and all the next day in a mad scramble, packing her books and papers and shipping them to the address Dr. Langford has given her. She resigns formally and closes her bank accounts. Pays a year of charges in advance on the things she has in storage; it wipes out her savings, but _alea iacta est._ If she's been hired to do something, they have to pay her. She wonders how much it will be.

She knows she'll have to think about selling her family furniture soon. She has no place to put it, and she can't afford to keep storing it. But it's her last link with the life she should have had. She's never been able to bear the thought.

She stuffs as many of her clothes as she can into a suitcase and throws out the rest.

"Guess it's just you and me now, eh, Anubis?" she says.

The little dog wiggles all over. She picks him up, holds him under her chin.

She didn't ask if she could bring him.

She's not leaving him behind.

Somebody told her he's something called a Yorkshire Terrier. About five pounds of bronze and silver trouble. One of the students brought him with her to school as a puppy and dumped him when she left for the summer. He'd gotten her into trouble anyway -- you're not supposed to have pets in the dorms. Dani had adopted him. TAs living in Faculty Housing aren't supposed to have pets either, but she'd done a better job of hiding him and really doesn't care if she's caught, actually. She doesn't know what his old name was. She calls him Anubis.

#

When she finally surfaces from her packing the next day long enough to take a good look at the papers Catherine gave her, she realizes she isn't going to have to worry about getting Anubis onto a commercial flight.

She isn't flying commercial.

All she has to do is figure out how to do is get to Travis Air Force Base. She manages it, but barely. And she's late.

It turns out they're holding the plane for her. They run her from the front gate to the airstrip in a Jeep, having thrown her suitcases into the back -- one of clothes, the other of books too vital to ship. She's carrying a shoulder bag, too. One dog, wrapped in a towel, plus dog food.

The flight isn't too long, but it's noisy and she hates flying anyway.

She doesn't really like to travel. It drives her allergies crazy. She just likes being places.

At the other end, there's another government car, and when she tells the driver she has to walk her dog first, he really doesn't know what to do. But she really has to. So off she and Anubis go, leaving him standing there.

#

She doesn't see much of Colorado Springs. It's dark. She's missed dinner. She eats candy bars in the back of the car while they drive up into the hills. The driver tells her they're going to Cheyenne Mountain. From his tone, he expects her to have heard of it. She hasn't.

By the time they get there, her allergies are in full swing. They usually settle down a little after she's been somewhere for a few months, but they get worse any time she goes somewhere new. She coughs and chokes. Her pockets fill with used Kleenex.

It is a mountain, not just a name. They drive right inside.

She tucks Anubis into the kangaroo pouch of the hoodie she's wearing. He's used to that -- it's the way she usually carries him -- and settles down for a nap.

The car stops. The driver gets out and opens the door. Looks around suspiciously for the dog. She gets out quickly.

There's another man standing there waiting for her. He's in uniform. He's looking at her with a slightly-disbelieving expression.

She gets that a lot.

"I'm Major Charles Kawalsky. Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain."

"Uh… hi? I'm Dr. Jackson. You're expecting me."

"So they tell me. If you'll follow me, Dr. Jackson?"

"I've got--"

"Someone will bring them down for you."

She shrugs, picks up her shoulder bag, and follows Major Kawalsky.

They get on an elevator.

She sneezes.

"Cold?" he asks.

"Allergies," she mumbles around a wad of Kleenex. "This happens when I travel."

They get on a _second_ elevator. She knows he's waiting for her to ask just how far down they're going, and refuses to give him the satisfaction.

She sneezes again. The doors open.

Thank god. Civilians. A man and a woman.

She recognizes the man. Pudgy. Truculent. Gary Meyers. Egyptology. Sound, which is to say stupid. The woman she doesn't know.

"Dr. Jackson, Dr. Gary Meyers. How are you?"

He holds out his hand. She shakes it. His is damp. She wipes hers surreptitiously on her corduroys.

"Hello. What is this place?"

"Nuclear missile silo," the woman says. "Don't worry; it's been completely converted. Barbara Shaw. The token astrophysicist on the team."

_Astrophysicist? Team?_

"Hello," Dani says cautiously. Barbara smiles and starts walking away from the elevator. Dani, Major Kawalsky and Dr. Meyers follow.

They go through a set of double doors, into a large space. Dr. Langford is there, but Dani barely notices.

Most of the back wall is covered with a huge circular stone object, very old. It was originally created in a number of large pieces that fit together into a disk more than sixty feet across. Some of them are cracked, but all the pieces are here.

It's Egyptian. She walks up to it, transfixed, and runs her hands over the parts she can reach. Tomb covering?

Why round?

"Dr. Jackson, welcome to--" Dr. Langford says.

"Oh, hello," she says vaguely, still staring at the stone. Cover stone? Has to be. But covering what? "This is… Where did you find this?"

"Giza plateau, 1928."

_Can't have. Somebody would have published. I would have seen pictures._

"I've never seen anything like this," she says.

"Of course you haven't," Dr. Langford says smugly. "No one has."

"Now, there's two lines of hieroglyphs. The inner track has the classic figures, but the outer track is like the cartouche in the center. It's got writing unlike any we've ever found before," Meyers says.

She stops looking at the stone and focuses on the carvings.

"Those aren't hieroglyphs. Some form of hieratic, maybe renaya form?"

There's a blackboard nearby. She glances at it. It has the hieroglyphs from the Coverstone chalked on it, with an English translation -- if you can call it that -- written beneath. She winces, walking over to it and picking up the chalk.

"Well, the translation of the inner track is completely wrong," she says flatly. "Whatever idiot did it must have used Budge. I don't know why they keep reprinting his books."

She begins erasing the English words.

"Excuse me, er, what are you doing?" Myers says. "We've used every known technique--"

She ignores him. She knows what this says.

"That's a curious word to use, _'qebeh.'_ Then an adverbial _'sedjeb-en-ef'_ with a cleft subject: 'sealed and buried.'." She writes quickly. Stops and turns to Meyers, glaring. "Not 'coffin.' Who the hell translated this?"

Meyers glares back.

"I did."

_Okay right, good going, Danielle, making friends wherever you go._

She sighs. Glances at Dr. Langford apologetically, but Dr. Langford is smiling triumphantly. She takes courage from that and plows on.

"Well, what this _should_ say is… 'A million years into the sky is Ra, Sun God. Sealed and buried for all time is his…' And oh yeah, it's not 'Door to Heaven,' either. The proper translation of that last group is… _Stargate._ "

She finishes writing the proper translation on the board. Sets down the chalk.

"Right." She looks around at the other three. "So why is the United States Air Force so interested in a five-thousand year old Egyptian Coverstone?"

#

Charlie is dead.

And he's been reactivated.

General West tells him a lot of things at his initial briefing on Door To Heaven. They've got a piece of voodoo under Cheyenne Mountain that the Pentagon, the Air Force – and a bunch of civilians – have been trying to make work since the early seventies. It's a black-budget project. It may -- or may not -- involve space travel, aliens, quantum physics, and opening a doorway to some place they're not quite sure of that something nasty could jump out through.

Catherine Langford, the Civilian Head of Project, has told General West they're close to succeeding.

That's why he's here.

In case they do.

Everything on the project is classified now.

#

There's a gaggle of civilians standing around in front of what he's been told to call the Coverstone. For a moment, he has the horrified feeling that the one in the middle is Charlie.

That's the way it's been. He sees Charlie everywhere, as if somehow the last three months never happened. And every time he does, he has to remember all over again that they did.

But no, the boy is too old to be Charlie.

What's a boy doing down here with Langford's geeks anyway?

Then he opens his mouth -- babbling something about five-thousand-year-old Egyptian Coverstones -- and O'Neill realizes he isn't a boy.

She still can't be more than --sixteen? --eighteen? though.

"My report says ten thousand."

"Good evening, Colonel," Kawalsky says.

"Do I know you?" That's Langford, up on a very high horse. If she thinks she's going to pull rank on him, she's in for a surprise.

"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill from General West's office. I'll be taking over from now on."

"This figure -- ten thousand -- is… Egyptian culture didn't even exist," the girl says.

Who is this kid? She hasn't been cleared.

And she's ignoring him.

"I know." That's Shaw. "But the sonic and radio carbon tests are conclusive."

"Well, these are cutter's stones. Was there a tomb underneath?"

"No, but we found something a lot more interesting."

"Excuse me," he says again. "This information has become classified. From now on, no information is to be passed on to non-military personnel--" _like high school students_ "---without my express permission."

Which nobody is going to get.

"Colonel O'Neill," Dr. Langford says. "What's going on here? I was told I had complete autonomy."

"Plans change."

She won't leave it alone. And she doesn't have the sense to take the discussion somewhere private, either.

"Why are you here? Why did they bring you in on this project?"

He favors her with a tight smile. "I'm here in case you succeed."

#

She's spent two weeks in Hell's Basement, losing her mind.

At least Catherine doesn't mind about Anubis. She thinks part of the reason Catherine likes Anubis is because the idea of having a dog in his sacred military precincts is driving their military liaison absolutely crazy.

'Military liaison.' That's a joke. There isn't any liaising going on.

He won't give her what she needs to solve the problem.

She knows there's more. Barbara and Gary and Catherine all know there's more. They've all seen it -- whatever it is. They've been working on Project Giza for two years, trying to translate the Coverstone.

_All_ of the Coverstone.

And whatever else they've seen, they can't tell her about.

Because of Colonel Jack O'Neill.

Oh, god, she hates Jack O'Neill. _Hates_ him.

What can possibly be classified about Egyptian artifacts, whether they're five thousand or ten thousand years old?

If they're ten thousand years old, _they prove all her theories._

And she can't see them.

God damn him.

The rest of her stuff from Berkeley arrived a day or so after she did. She has photos and rubbings of the Coverstone. She has a photo ID that will allow her to go to the commissary and to Guest Quarters on the base -- she's living on-Base, like everyone else -- all she has to do is follow the proper colored lines on the floor. She has an office to store everything in, which is where she actually does what little sleeping she's doing.

She has a guard who follows her almost everywhere. More Jack O'Neill. Maybe she could train Anubis to bite him.

She has no clue what the outer ring of symbols are. They match nothing in any of her books. _Nothing._

What the hell are they?

What the hell is a Stargate?

#

It's a thousand o'clock in the morning.

She needs more coffee.

At least there's a coffeemaker in the Coverstone lab, which is where she spends all the time she doesn't spend in her office.

Stones talk.

This one isn't.

Pot's dry.

She takes it and goes out into the hall to the water fountain to fill it. New and different thug in a chair, reading the paper. She fills the pot with water, goes back inside.

She's woken up Anubis.

Poor puppy. He's probably forgotten what grass looks like.

But he needs to _go._ She knows that look.

She looks around for newspaper. There isn't any. She's run out again.

She scoops up Anubis under one arm, goes back out into the hall. Grabs the paper out of the watchdog's hands.

"Sorry. I need this."

Spreads the paper on the concrete. Half of it, anyway. She'll spread the other half in the lab, so neither of them is caught short again.

Anubis squats and piddles quickly.

She's staring at the back page. Horoscopes and astronomy. Both stars, so of course people would think they'd go together.

Morons.

Orion.

Orion?

"Oh my god," she says aloud. _They aren't letters. They're SYMBOLS…_

She goes back into the lab. Anubis pads after her.

_A star map. Where can I find a star-map…?_

#

They've called a meeting.

She didn't expect so many people to be here. She only brought six copies of the symbols on the Coverstone, and that only because Catherine said that General West would be here. That left one for her, Catherine, Barbara, and Gary. And Goddamned O'Neill.

But there are a whole bunch of other military dress uniforms here too.

Catherine ushers her into the room. She really doesn't want to be here now, talking to a bunch of oblivious military types. They aren't going to believe her. Even if she's right.

"Dr. Jackson, I'd like you to meet General West."

"Oh, um, right. General. Hi."

She can do this.

"So you think you've solved in two weeks what they couldn't solve in two years?"

Condescending bastard.

_Two years?_

She stares at Catherine. Catherine smiles encouragingly.

She takes a deep breath.

"Look, I, um, have some stuff for you to look at, just pass them down, you'll have to share them, I'm sorry I don't have enough for everyone…"

She found a star-map. But she only has one.

Why didn't Catherine tell her how many people were going to be here?

Maybe she didn't know.

They're looking at her and muttering. She gets that a lot.

She can do this.

She waits for them to unroll the papers she's given them. She unrolls the star-map. Weights it down with coffee-cups. It takes up most of the table.

"Okay, obviously we're looking at a picture of the Coverstone now." She wishes she'd just made slides. "Now, on the outer track, these figures that you thought were words to be translated were, in fact, star constellations. These constellations were placed in a unique order – in the cartouche -- creating a map, or an address of sorts. Seven constellations. Seven points to outline a course to a position and … um … to find a location within any three-dimensional space you need six points."

She could tell them about the Dogon, and several other primitive tribes with advanced astronomical knowledge. The Anazi built something like a telescope, and a form of observatory, as did the Mayans. She glances at their faces and decides not to.

She goes to the whiteboard on the wall, sketches a figure quickly. A cube. Six points.

A map in three dimensions.

"You said you needed seven points," General West says.

"Well, no. Six for the destination. To plot a course you need a point of origin. Seven."

She draws a point outside the box, connects it to the cube.

That's it. That has to be it. Nick's theories are true. When she gets out of here she has to find him and tell him.. Stargate.

Egyptian culture is of extraterrestrial origin.

"Except that there are only six symbols on the cartouche," Gary says.

Gary is such a moron.

"Yeah, well, the seventh symbol isn't actually _inside_ the cartouche, Gary. It's just below it. That little pyramid with the two funny neat little guys and the line coming out of the top? Anyway--"

"She did it," Catherine says.

She sounds stunned.

"No. That symbol isn't anywhere on the device," Gary says. He's starting to teeter over into full-bore Pissy Academic Mode now. She recognizes the signs.

But… "What device?"

"Show her," General West says.

Colonel O'Neill looks like he's about to have a coronary. Good.

O'Neill pushes a button, and suddenly one whole wall of the conference room slides away. There's a glass wall behind it. And behind that…

There's a huge room. Airplane hangar size. They're above it, as if they're in a Skybox. She hates heights, but she rushes to the window anyway and looks down. There's a huge ring standing at the end of the room, thirty feet below them. Around its rim are the same symbols that were carved into the Coverstone.

"What is-- What-- What--"

"That's your Stargate, Dr. Jackson," Catherine says, sounding pleased at the reaction she's getting. "Come on. You need to identify the seventh symbol for us."

Catherine leads her through another door, to another room. It's full of computers. It looks like Mission Control. She has a better view of the Stargate here.

Catherine says they've been dialing -- dialing? -- the first six symbols for months, and haven't been able to get a lock. With seven, she hopes it will work.

Dani watches a monitor as the … Stargate … cycles. The inner ring rotates.

They dug _this_ up in Egypt in 1928?

It's supposed to be _ten thousand years old?_

She watches one of the monitors. It gives her a close view of the rotating ring.

"Look -- this one -- stop your, um, thing. It's there." She points.

"There aren't any figures," Gary says suspiciously.

"Oh, for god's sake!" she snaps, rounding on him. "Hieroglyphic forms vary across dynasties and these must too! _That's_ your seventh symbol! Do you want me to draw the kneeling figures in with a Sharpie to convince you? They're implicit. That's it."

Catherine picks up a phone. "General West, Dr. Jackson has identified the seventh symbol."

#

They run a test.

The Stargate works.

The whole Mountain shakes, as the Stargate lights up, establishing something Barbara calls a wormhole. She hugs Dani hard. There are tears of joy in her eyes.

They send a probe through.

It sends back telemetry.

Pictures.

There's a _world_ on the other side. One where, according to the probe, people can breathe. There are pictures. There's another Stargate, but the symbols aren't the same as on the one they have. It's surrounded by pillars. Forms that look like an Egyptian temple complex.

_'A million years into the sky is Ra, Sun God…'_

Egypt in the stars.

The wormhole collapses. They lose the signal.

#

General West wants to send a reconnaissance mission.

People.

According to the enhanced pictures, there's an object in front of the Stargate. Barbara is pretty sure it's the original control device that goes with the Stargate, used to work the ring; theirs is a jury-rig. If General West sends a team through, whoever goes will have to decipher the symbols on the alien Stargate and input the right seven symbols into the alien device to open a wormhole on the other side that will bring them back here.

Apparently, you can't just open the one on the other side from here so they can come back. Barbara talks about matter transmission being only one-way through a wormhole, whatever that means. She explains until Dani's eyes glaze, and finally tells her, simply, that they just _have_ to come back by turning on the other Stargate from the other side _because._

Okay.

And because the symbols are different there, the seven symbols they have here, well, they're the address to go there. Not to come here.

"Based on this new information, I don't see how we can do that," General West says. Send a mission through, he means. Find the seven symbols to come back.

They're all standing around in the computer room.

He and O'Neill look at each other.

Something's up.

Apparently it's Very Important for them to send somebody through the Stargate, for some reason.

"I can do that," she says.

The address for there was written down here, right? On the Coverstone? So the reverse has to be true, doesn't it?

"I am not taking her," Colonel O'Neill says flatly.

"Colonel, Dr. Jackson is the best qualified for the mission," Catherine says. "She figured out how to decipher the Coverstone in just two weeks. She determined the seventh symbol."

"No. If I take anyone, I'll take Meyers."

Because one Egyptologist is as good as another.

"Colonel, _please--_ " she says.

Egypt in the stars.

"Can you teach him what he needs to know, or not?" Colonel O'Neill demands.

She looks at Catherine. Catherine shrugs, just a little. They're not going to win this one.

Maybe if she caves this time, they'll let her go next time.

"Yes."

She doesn't trust herself to say anything more.

Oh, she does hate Colonel Jack O'Neill.

#

It takes three days to prep the mission. For some reason she never figures out, they're calling the destination planet Abydos. Abydos -- Abedju, actually -- was an ancient cult center of the god Osirus. At Thebes, not Giza. Gary probably came up with the name. Typical of his level of incisive scholarship.

He's going with them. The mission is doomed.

She spends the entire time cramming Gary with everything she knows about hieratic forms – there might be instructions with the cartouche -- and trying to get him to unlearn a lifetime's reliance on Budge -- and, most of all, _where_ to look for the cartouche that will contain the dial-home address. That's the important thing. It's not as if he's actually going to have to decipher anything. Just find the cartouche, match the symbols to the symbols on what Barbara has taken to calling the Dial Home Device, and … dial home.

_And please, Gary, get them in the right order. With the Point of Orign glyph LAST._

She wants to go so much it makes her sick.

She's the one who's qualified to go.

Nobody would be going _anywhere_ if it weren't for her.

But that doesn't matter. Either in Academia, or in the testosterone-laden world of This Man's Air Force. Women go for coffee. Men go for the gusto.

#

She and Catherine are there to see them off. Colonel O'Neill, Gary, and six commandoes. Plus as much equipment as she'd take to spend six weeks in the Valley of the Kings.

Gary looks as if he's about to throw up.

They're watching from the floor this time, not the Control Room. The whole place shakes again when the wormhole is established.

The empty space in the middle of the Stargate is filled with a rippling light as blue as sapphires. She takes a trembling breath.

Catherine reaches out and takes her hand consolingly.

The men start up the ramp.

Suddenly there's a yelp. Gary goes falling off the edge of the ramp, tangled in the guardrails.

O'Neill stops and looks around. "Shut it down!" he shouts.

#

Gary's ankle is either broken or badly sprained.

There's no way he's going anywhere.

Colonel O'Neill comes stomping down the ramp.

Regards her completely without expression and passes by.

#

The mission is all set and ready to go, and Meyers breaks his ankle.

O'Neill can scrub the mission, or he can take Dr. Jackson. Who, it turns out, is a great big 25 years old.

He really hates the fact that she's better qualified to go than Meyers.

She's a woman.

It's not that.

He's served with women in combat. It worked out. He had no complaints.

She's a civilian woman.

General West considers this mission vital to National Security.

He wants to go.

He _needs_ to go.

It will be better for Sara.

He's no good to Sara.

He's no good _for_ Sara.

It's just a matter of going through, doing a simple recon and Threat Assessment, finding the symbols to send his team home again, and coming back. Simple mission.

And if there is something bad out there, they need to get rid of the enemy Stargate.

Because, ten thousand years ago – or whenever it was buried -- there was something. Something Dr. Jackson -- and Dr. Langford -- still haven't seen.

Skeletons.

Alien skeletons.

They're still radioactive.

They were buried under the Stargate, under the Coverstone.

If those things are still out there, nobody wants them coming back to Earth.

Scientists.

None of them ever wondered _why_ the Stargate was 'sealed and buried' in the first place.

Obviously to keep hostiles from coming through it. So obviously, whatever is -- or was -- on the other side, was hostile.

And now that the thing is working again, somebody has to go see if they're still there.

And if they're still there…

Better him than anybody anyone would miss.

He agrees to take her.

#

"You're going."

Catherine walks into her office. She's sitting with Anubis in her arms, staring at the picture of the Coverstone pinned to her wall. Wondering what's on the other side of the Stargate.

"What?" She spins around in her chair.

Catherine is smiling. Looking triumphant.

"Colonel O'Neill has talked to General West. Gary's ankle is broken in two places -- god knows how he managed that. They don't want to scrub the mission. So you're going. You leave in an hour. You'll need a uniform. You can take Gary's pack, and whatever else you need. Better hurry."

"He wants me?"

"No. But he needs you."

#

They don't have anything that fits. The uniform hangs on her. She doesn't care. She runs back to her office with Gary's pack. Rummages through it, tossing things out and adding things. Kleenex. Candy bars. She stuffs a couple candy bars into a pocket, fills another pocket with Kleenex. She missed lunch. She's always forgetting to eat. Peanut butter is food anyway, isn't it?

She picks up a suitcase and stuffs books into it. Reference. Constellations, Egyptology. She's not sure what she'll need, but she knows she won't be able to go back for it without finding the cartouche with the, well, return address.

Anubis is sitting on the desk, watching her preparations. He wiggles expectantly. He knows she's going somewhere.

She can't just leave him behind.

He'll bark.

She sighs fondly, and checks her pockets. They're certainly big enough. And it's just there and back again.

She picks him up, kisses the top of his head, and drops him into her pocket. He squirms around a bit and settles contentedly.

She slings the backpack into place, picks up her suitcase.

Heads for the Stargate.

#

Catherine is waiting for her at the foot of the ramp.

"I have something for you, Danielle."

She holds out her hands.

It's the pendant she always wears, the gold one with the Eye of Ra on it.

"No. I--"

"Yes," Catherine says firmly. "I found it with the Stargate when I was a child. It has always brought me luck. You can bring it back to me." She leans forward and clasps the necklace around Dani's neck. The pendant settles against her skin. It's heavy.

Catherine kisses her on the cheek and steps away.

Behind her, up in the Control Room, she can hear the technicians talking, preparing to activate the Stargate again.

Colonel O'Neill walks toward them. He yanks the suitcase out of her hand, passes it to Major Kawalsky. Kawalsky goes to add it to the pile of equipment on the wheeled sleds.

"If you give me any trouble at all over there, I will shoot you myself," Colonel O'Neill tells her quietly.

_Well, this is getting off to a good start._

She doesn't say anything.

He turns away. Goes back to his men.

"If anybody has anything to say, now's the time."

Apparently nobody does.

The Stargate comes to life once more.

O'Neill leads his squad up the ramp.

She's last. Almost. Kawalsky's behind her.

It looks like water. Shining water.

She leans forward.

Kawalsky shoves her through.

#

Dark. _Cold._ So cold she hurts, and for one panicked moment she's sure she's dead. Hands clutch at her and she bats them away. Anubis is clawing his way free of her pocket and she grabs for him.

"Aw, geeze, don't tell me she brought her pet rat--" somebody says.

"Jackson! Dr. Jackson, stay with me!" O'Neill.

Somebody hands her Anubis. He's shaking. He's covered in frost.

_She's_ covered in frost.

She opens her eyes. Realizes she's lying on her side on the floor, and that her glasses are covered in frost, too. Pulls them off. Tucks Anubis under her t-shirt to warm him. She can feel him shivering. Sits up. Rubs her glasses dry and looks around.

It's pitch dark. They're using flares for light. But it's enough light to see that this is a pyramid, no, not just any pyramid, _the_ pyramid, the Great Pyramid at Giza.

Identical. Except for the Stargate and the Dial Home Device.

Her heart sinks.

Identical means…

She gets to her feet. Tucks her t-shirt in so that Anubis won't fall out. He's still shaking. She rubs him comfortingly through the fabric, trying to dry him. It's cold in here.

She takes a flare, starts looking around. There's no one here but the eight of them.

Ramp leading up from the Stargate into the Main Gallery.

There's no cartouche anywhere near the Stargate.

#

They get to the entrance of the Pyramid and look out.

Desert. Actinic white light, blinding, and she doesn't have sunglasses.

Two suns in the sky.

Three moons.

Steps leading down to the desert. She doesn't see any other buildings, but they have to be here; pyramids were almost always a part of a temple complex; if not immediately connected, then certainly associated. She needs to go outside, look around.

They do go outside, do a perimeter sweep. Well, the others do. She looks around the outside of the Pyramid. It's in perfect condition except that the top doesn't have the gold leaf that the ancient descriptions say it was supposed to have. She thinks the ancient writings were wrong, actually; misinterpreted. Nick said aliens would visit Egypt and navigate by the Pyramids. He thinks the 'gold' refers to spaceships.

She's never told anybody that.

Sure not going to mention it now.

No sign of writing on the outside, no sign of other buildings in the distance. She needs longer, but O'Neill motions her to rejoin the others.

"I want all you people back through the Stargate right now," O'Neill says. "Dr. Jackson, go dial it up."

"I… I need more time. There's bound to be more structures here. Other traces of civilization."

He looks at her. "Not this trip, Doctor. Just get back in there and dial it up."

She really doesn't want to make this clear to him, especially since he's already promised to shoot her. But she has no choice.

"It's not that easy. This is a replica of the Great Pyramid at Giza. We're not going to find any writing in there. We really need to look around."

He stares at her in disbelief.

"Your job here is to find the seven symbols to dial us home. Can you do that or not?"

"They aren't in there. Look, I know they have to be around here somewhere--"

But he's stopped listening to her.

He tells his commandoes to set up a base camp at the foot of the pyramid and organize their supplies.

#

They've figured out by now that she's stranded them, and they're not happy about it.

O'Neill's off somewhere else.

Anubis is back in her pocket. She strokes him for comfort. She can feel him panting. He's hot. She needs to get him some water.

The Merry Marauders are all stripped to the waist and glistening with sweat; they're setting up their base camp and it has to be almost a hundred degrees out here. Getting naked is not the best thing for a desert climate, though she's not going to bother to tell them that. She wonders how much water they brought. However much it is, it isn't going to be enough. Their tents really suck, too: a high-tech solar-veil canopy with a bunch of smaller tents beneath -- all black -- that might give great shade protection during the day -- though no ventilation -- but will do nothing to protect them in the cold of the desert night that's coming.

The sand is white, and fine as sugar.

The glare hurts her eyes. The forage cap she's wearing isn't nearly enough protection, but it's all she has.

Didn't these people have any idea they were coming to a _desert?_

Sure they did. So they brought enough guns to fight a small war, and no clothing suitable for the climate.

She goes over to the stack of crates where the water jug is. One of the big ones; 25 gallons. For eight people in this climate, maybe two days' worth of water or a little more. She thinks they brought two. Squats down and tests the sand underneath. It's fairly cool. She takes Anubis out and sets him down.

Pulls off her pack and squats down to go through it. There has to be something here she can use as a bowl.

Foot powder. Sun-block (utterly inadequate). Sunglasses she can't use. Socks. Socks? She should have completely repacked this herself, but there wasn't time. Underwear. Blank journals. A box of Sharpies. A camera. Condoms. God.

Where the hell did Gary think he was going, Vietnam?

"Isn't there something you ought to be doing, Doc? Like _getting us home?_ "

She doesn't know the name of the man who's speaking -- she doesn't know any of their names but O'Neill's and Kawalsky's -- but the accent is East Coast. Boston, she thinks, but not Brahmin. Lower class, with a purity you don't hear much these days. Interesting.

"I can't do that from here. Maybe later."

When Colonel O'Neill comes back from wherever he is, she'll tell him she needs to look around more. If he would just look at her, listen to her for five minutes, she can explain that she just needs to look around…

There's nothing in the pack that will do.

"Look. I need--"

"Nobody here cares what you need, Doc. What we need is a way _out_ of here."

Boston comes striding toward her. She gets to her feet quickly. He's huge. To back away, to run, will make him more aggressive, though. She knows that from bitter experience.

Anubis isn't here.

She looks around.

Anubis had gone wandering off -- in search of somewhere to pee, she supposes -- while she was rummaging through her pack. Now the noise and sudden movement attracts him. He comes running back.

Boston whips up his gun and fires.

Anubis simply vanishes. One moment he is there. The next, there is an explosion, a flash of red, and wetness is dropping to the sand.

"A rat. Thought it was a rat." Boston laughs.

#

They're all going to have to die because _Dr. Jackson can't do what she said she could._

He'd like to work up the energy to hate the woman, but he's too damned tired.

He was supposed to be the only one who died, if anyone did.

Bad intel. Always screws up a mission. Would Meyers have done better? He thinks about it, decides not.

There isn't anything here to find.

She'd said there would be, and there isn't.

He opens the false bottom of the last of the transports sleds, the one they left by the Stargate. The suitcase nuke is sitting right there, in its secret compartment. A payload big enough to flatten this whole damned pyramid and take out the Stargate, too. And all of them.

The trouble is, they haven't found anything. He was supposed to come through and confirm hostiles on this side. No way to confirm an absence of hostiles; they'd just wanted to confirm their presence. And when they did, make sure they could never come through the Stargate. By blowing it up.

His team -- and Dr. Jackson -- was supposed to be safe on Earth when the bomb went off.

He was supposed to be the only one here.

Bomb or not, lack of water is going to kill them soon enough.

And since none of them can get home, decision's made. Blow the Gate.

Better than dying of thirst.

He hears weapons fire.

Runs.

#

He sees the bloody smear on the sand, all that's left of Dr. Jackson's dog.

He'd been going to get Charlie a dog.

Would it have made a difference?

Mankiewicz is standing there, cradling his weapon, grinning.

She's just standing there.

They can't have this. They're all going to tear each other to pieces if discipline goes. And she'll be the first one they go for. He can feel the tension.

"Dr. Jackson. Bury your dog."

If she cries, screams, makes a sound, they're all going to lose it. He'll have to shoot somebody. It will be her fault.

No. His. He knew she had the dog. He knew Mankiewicz was wrapped way too tight. He should have kept her with him. Or told Kawalsky to keep her out of trouble. But Kawalsky isn't doing much better than Mankiwicz right now. None of them are. They're trapped on an alien planet with no extraction route and she was the one who was supposed to get them back.

She's picked up her suitcase and dumped the books out. Suitcase. Books.

Never should have brought her.

Never should have come.

She walks over to the smear on the sand.

She's a civilian. A kid.

She shouldn't be here.

He sees dead kids every time he closes his eyes.

Charlie.

Charlie's been dead three months today.

She's down on her hands and knees in the sand, scooping the pieces into the suitcase with her bare hands. Meat. Sand. Blood. The M-60 Mankiwicz is carrying hasn't left much but a spatter. It looks like she's determined to get it all.

Not a sound. Not a tear.

She's finished. She closes the suitcase. Still hasn't made a sound. It's so quiet that when she snaps the locks, they sound like gunfire. She stands up. Doesn't turn around. Goes walking up over the side of the dune.

O'Neill looks at Mankiwicz. "Save your ammo for hostiles. We clear?"

"Sir," Mankiwicz says. He's crossed the line and he knows it.

Kawalsky grins without mirth. "C'mon over here, Mank, I got somethin' ta show you."

O'Neill turns his back. There's the sound of a blow. He doesn't react.

#

The sun burns away her tears as soon as they form. She scrubs away the blood on her hands in the sand as she digs. The sun heats the golden pendant through her t-shirt. Every time it swings against her chest, it burns.

All she'd wanted was water for her dog.

It was quick. At least it was quick.

Everything she loves dies.

Her parents, when she was eight. Crushed to death by smooth stones, a few feet from where she stood. Her grandfather Nick had come for her, had taken her away. Had been taken away from her when she was twelve. Another kind of death; not mortal, but just as final.

Nick, her parents, were all archaeologists. She turned to scholarship, away from people, because truth, learning, must be immortal, undying.

But academic reputations die too.

Simon. Chicago. Last stop before Berkeley. She'd loved him, he'd loved himself. Their relationship was a child of sorts. Loved. Killed.

She'd kept setting her sights lower, and nothing was low enough.

Everything she loves dies.

She can't dig deeply enough to bury the suitcase in the soft sand. She settles for covering it. The wind should do the rest. It will probably rise with evening.

She gets to her feet. Looks around.

There are tracks in the soft desert sand.

She follows them. She doesn't want to go back to the camp anyway.

#

There's an animal at the foot of the dune, grazing on brush where the dune turns to erg.

It looks sort of like a giant capybara. Or a hornless desert-adapted yak. Or maybe a long-haired buffalo.

Hell, it's an _alien animal._

It's wearing a harness. Domesticated.

There are _people_ here.

People mean cities, or some sort of enclave. Another place to look for the seven symbols.

She's not a failure. She'll prove it.

She reaches out to stroke it. It shies away. She grabs its trailing lead rope, stepping closer.

"Nice… horsie?" she suggests tentatively.

Camels have a reputation for being vile-tempered beasts, but they can actually be very sweet if you get to know them. They only spit when they're trying to avoid work. If she can make friends with this creature, maybe she can lead it back to the camp, convince the others to go looking for the people who must live here.

Just about all animals like sweet things.

Anubis…

She takes a deep breath. No.

She's wanted a lot of things in her life and never gotten any of them. This is just one more.

She fumbles in her pocket for one of her candy bars. The chocolate might not be such a good idea, but the peanut butter center should be okay. She peels it -- the chocolate is nearly liquid -- and tries to wipe the chocolate off on her pants before tempting the creature with the candy.

It isn't having any. She barely gets her fingers out of the way before it slurps down the candy: wrapper, chocolate, and all.

And then bolts.

She hears shouting in the distance.

Her feet are tangled up in its lead rope.

It drags her behind it.

#

She's been gone too long.

He takes Brown and Kawalsky up to the top of the dune to look for her.

She's at least a mile away, down at the bottom.

Cuddling up to an alien animal about the size of a truck. Feeding it, from the looks of things.

"Dr. Jackson! Get away from that!"

Just about the time he shouts at her, it bolts.

It's dragging her.

"Let go of it!" Kawalsky yells helpfully.

The three of them go running after her.

Maybe he _should_ have shot her.

#

She can't get her foot loose from the lead rope.

She's going to be dragged to death.

She clutches her glasses against her face and tries to keep the sand out of her mouth. She can hear O'Neill and Kawalsky shouting behind her.

#

It drags her to the edge of a dune before it stops.

She's lost her hat.

They find open-air pit mines. They find people. She can't talk to them -- she tries every sub-Saharan and Semitic language she knows -- but she manages to communicate with the head man -- he arrives in a howdah on the back of another of those yak/capybara things -- through the universal language of chocolate. She wishes she had more candy with her.

They all bow down at the sight of her pendant. They recognize the symbol.

"Ra? Ra?" she says.

They grovel in the dust.

_There is only one god/And he is the sun god/Ra... Ra... Ra…_

He invites them back to his village. She convinces O'Neill to go.

From there things get really interesting.

#

No reading. No writing. No symbolic communication at all. And – to make things even better – a big sandstorm blows up and O'Neill practically shoots a couple of the villagers when they try to bar the village gates against it. He thinks they're trying to entrap them here.

And the weird thing? He should have just been angry. That would have fit perfectly with her Military Monster image of him.

But she's willing to bet, when she was staring into his eyes, she and one of the local boys trying to drag the gun out of his hands and get him to see reason, that Jack O'Neill was…

Afraid.

#

They're stuck here until it blows out. And – apparently, from what she overhears -- out of radio contact with the base camp because of the weather. It won't survive the sandstorm. O'Neill's other four commandoes should be okay if they have the sense to get back inside the pyramid, but they won't have time to take their stuff.

The villagers here worship Ra.

The four of them are at a big banquet being held in their honor. She's been trying to communicate with the village elders by drawing signs on the ground. Which is how she finds out that writing is taboo.

They showed her their great big gold sun disk.

And she showed them the one she's wearing around her neck again.

And the next thing she knows, she's getting hauled off in the middle of the banquet by a gaggle of the women. Which doesn't seem to bother O'Neill much. He's really hit it off with a couple of the local kids. Little friend to all the world.

#

God, she wishes she could _talk_ to them.

This is obviously some sort of ceremony, or about to be; they've got her off in one of the curtained alcoves and are trying to get all her clothes off. She's trying to keep them on without offending anybody. She's not sure what they want to do, but she's fairly sure she'd rather not. Not without knowing the language, anyway. But it's about a dozen of the old women, and they've already got her boots off. And there go her pants.

Suddenly the old woman who grabbed her pants sits back on her haunches, howling.

Dani has obviously done something to displease her, but she doesn't know what.

All the women are chattering at each other, very agitated. Pointing.

Now they're tearing at her clothes in earnest, and they're not being gentle. If she doesn't want to get hurt, she'd better help. In a few moments she's not wearing anything but Catherine's sun disk and her glasses.

They're pointing at her breasts and howling louder.

Oh. Oh, _no._

They thought she was a man. Or a boy. Because she was dressed like the others.

There weren't any women sitting with them at the feast.

Most desert cultures have extensive rules governing the partition of the sexes. Even the Ancient Egyptians did, though not as draconian as the ones the Bedu or the Haibiru had.

She's broken some sort of taboo.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says, though she knows they don't understand her. There's some loose fabric lying among the pillows they pushed her back on to disrobe her. She pulls it over herself.

Another woman walks into the room. A young woman. She's dressed differently, looks to be of a higher status. Dani thinks she's about her own age, maybe a year or two younger.

She looks like an Egyptian Queen.

She's the one who served them all food on the platform before. From the way the headman treated her, Dani thinks they may be related. She gives O'Neill points for not staring at her, and not letting Brown or Kawalsky stare at her, either. The man is a thug, but he isn't stupid.

The serving women all start to talk at once, trying to drag the blanket off Dani again. Dani holds onto it firmly.

The woman laughs. Claps her hands. Points to the pendant.

The old women all go face-down on the ground again.

More talk. The young woman claps her hands again. The others leave.

"I don't mean to get you into trouble…" Dani says.

The woman says something, cocking her head. She sounds amused.

"I wish I could talk to you."

The woman kneels at her feet. Takes a basin onto her lap. Picks up Dani's feet and begins to wash them.

_Well, now we're getting… somewhere? Semitic cultures wash the feet of guests. I'm a guest._

It tickles.

Her feet are washed and dried. The woman sets the basin aside. Climbs up on the divan beside her.

"Danielle." Dani points to herself. Might as well try Basic Communication 101 again. "Danielle."

It takes the woman a moment to figure it out, and apparently she disagrees. She shakes her head, points to herself. "Sha're."

She points to Dani. "Dana're."

"No, no, no. _Danielle._ "

Sha're -- at least she's gotten as far as a name -- is insistent.

"Dana're. Dana're." She leans forward and kisses Dani firmly on the lips.

Dani tries to recoil, but there's nowhere to go. "Ah, uh, no, no, no, um, Sha're, um, no--"

But Sha're is sitting back on her heels looking at her now, still puzzled and, now, amused. She leans forward again. Dani shakes her head violently.

"Okay, okay. Dana're. _Dana're._ "

The other women come back, carrying a bundle of cloth. Sha're pulls her to her feet.

They dress her in native dress. It is similar to what Sha're is wearing.

Sha're kisses her again, on the cheek this time.

She kisses Sha're in return, because it really seems to be expected. Sha're looks pleased.

She thinks she recognizes this now. An adoption ceremony.

When she's dressed, they lead her back out to the banqueting area.

The headman -- tribal elder? -- priest? -- looks stunned.

More talk.

"What's going on?" O'Neill says to her quietly.

"I, ah, um, they just found out I'm a woman."

He makes a disgusted face.

The headman hugs her. Kisses her on both cheeks. He's smiling. Nodding.

Okay. Good.

Sha're comes forward. The women surround her, begin to walk off, leading her away.

"Where are you going?" O'Neill demands.

"I think I'm going off to sleep with the women."

"Some people have all the luck," Kawalsky says, grinning.

#

They seem to be stuck here for the night.

One of the local kids has attached himself to him, following him around everywhere. Friendly as a puppy.

Puppy.

Damned woman. She's brave, he'll give her that. No sense at all, but absolutely no fear. And she doesn't give up. He's betting that wherever she is now, she's still trying to talk to them.

He lights another cigarette.

The boy -- he's heard the others call him Skaara; he's pretty sure that's his name -- sneaks one out of the pack. O'Neill lets him. He's already taken his gun away from him, so he lets this go.

Kids and guns don't mix.

Charlie.

His fault. One slip. Just one. One time he didn't put his gun in the safe the moment he got home, because he and Sara had gotten into yet another argument about his damned job.

Just one slip.

That was all it took.

And now he's going to join Charlie. That's why he came.

The real reason.

A stupid reason. He sees that now.

But a little too late to back out now. Unless they all want to go native.

He thinks about it, cautiously. He's not sure he trusts his judgment any more. It's been a rough few months.

But he's been trained to command. And people are depending on him. His men. And Dr. Jackson. And all these smiling happy gentle people. Like all the smiling happy gentle people he's killed over the years. Many of whom were trying to kill him.

He hasn't finished his Threat Assessment yet. These people don't seem to be the hostiles he was sent to look for, but someone still out there might be. Tomorrow they'll go back to the pyramid.

He'll think of what to say to his men.

Everything depends on what he finds.

He still might have to set off that damned bomb.

Skaara creeps closer, his eyes fixed on O'Neill's lighter.

Cute kid. Bright. Friendly.

He'd always wanted a family. Sara'd kept bringing up his job.

Look where that got them.

Maybe he can forget. Just for tonight.

#

_Sha're knows the symbol for Earth._

In the Women's Quarters, Dani tries, once again, to explain where they came from, to communicate. Her allergies are driving her crazy and she has no more Kleenex, but the women give her cloths to use as makeshift handkerchiefs. She scrubs at her nose and eyes, draws a pyramid in the fine dust on the floor. It's the dust that's making her sneeze, she thinks. Sha're touches the drawing, and for a moment Dani thinks she is going to rub it out, as the Elders did, but she doesn't. She changes it, adds to it, makes it the symbol for Earth.

"You've seen this? You've seen this? Oh, please, can't you show me where?" Dani begs, knowing Sha're can't understand her. She clutches the pendant around her neck.

Sha're strokes her face. Her touch is gentle.

She gets to her feet. Take Dani's hand. Draws her to her feet.

Leads her out of the Women's Quarters.

They are careful not to be seen.

#

They're _talking._

The name of the village is Nagada. The creature that dragged her here is a _mastadge._

It was the vowel shift. The Abydans have been speaking the language of Ancient Egypt all along, with the vowels shifted by thousands of years of separation from Earth.

Sha're has brought her to a hidden gallery. There are paintings on the walls that could have come from any tomb in Egypt. They are ancient, perfectly preserved in the dry heat. They tell a story.

Once there was a God -- Ra -- who came from the stars to Earth and brought civilization to the Twin Lands. For many years he ruled there, because humans were… something she can't quite make out. He brought the Stargate with him, and brought thousands of people through it to this place to work in the mines.

To be his slaves.

Brown has said that whatever these people are mining is the same material the Stargate is made out of.

On Earth, the people rebelled against Ra. They buried the Stargate. _Sealed and buried for all time._ Here on Abydos, Ra's wrath was great. He forbade reading and writing, so that there would be no possibility of a rebellion here. He didn't want the people to remember where they had come from, or the truth about their heritage.

Or how to work the Stargate.

They talk all night, as the torch flickers and dies, about a lot of things. She was right about the adoption ceremony. Sha're is the daughter of the priest-king, Kasuf, and now she is Sha're's sister. They'd been going to marry her to Sha're, because of the amulet she was wearing, until they found out she was a woman.

That's why Sha're calls her Dana're. 'Re' is the royal suffix. 'Dana're' is her name now.

Just as now she has a father, a sister. And a brother. Skaara. That boy who was hanging around O'Neill all through the feast.

#

"I thought you couldn't speak their language."

O'Neill and the others have found her. They're carrying torches.

Sha're ducks behind her, modestly lowering her eyes.

"It's an ancient Egyptian dialect. I mean, unlike like the rest of their culture it actually evolved, but once you know the vowels--"

He still isn't listening.

"Just answer the question."

"I learned it."

"Pillow book," Brown says, snickering.

Kawalsky makes a sound of disgust -- with Brown -- and heads off down the passage. There weren't any paintings down there so she hadn't explored it. Besides, talking to Sha're was much more interesting.

She starts to explain about the history of the Abydans to O'Neill. Kawalsky interrupts her.

"Doc, I think you ought to take a look at this."

There's excitement in his voice. She hurries after him.

There, incised into the red rock of the wall, is a cartouche. The center is blank. No, filled with dust. She brushes it away.

When she brushes the dust away, she sees symbols inside it, just like on the Coverstone. Six symbols. The address for Earth. Home.

"That's it," she says. "I knew they'd have to have it here somewhere."

The seventh -- the point of origin symbol -- is buried in a pile of rubble and sand. She kneels, carefully brushing the chips of rock away.

No. Not buried.

Erased. Gone.

Without the seventh symbol, the other six are useless.

She bows her head in anguish. "It's gone. The seventh symbol is gone."

"That's it, then," O'Neill says. "You did your best, Doc. Come on. We're leaving."

"I… but. Where are we going?"

"Back to the pyramid. You going to get dressed?"

"I am dressed."

What she's wearing will be a lot cooler and more comfortable than military fatigues.

#

The Abydans don't understand why they're leaving. Sha're doesn't understand why she's leaving. She asks if Dani is O'Neill's wife.

_< "No, no, no, oh, no, no, nothing like that. He just… hired me to do something for him.">_

_< "You are his slave? Father will not permit that. He is not Of The Blood.">_

_< "No. It's not like that. Truly. I just have to go with him right now. I promised, in my own land.>"_

"Dr. Jackson!"

_< "I'll come back, Sha're. I promise. I'll come back. I have to go now.>"_

She hates to lie. She isn't good at it.

Maybe this isn't a lie.

They don't have any way to get home now.

She kisses her new sister goodbye and runs after the others.

#

It is just dawn when they leave, which is good. The sand hasn't heated up yet and the journey is easier. Kawalsky teases her about her new girlfriend. Brown's remarks are nastier. She doesn't explain.

O'Neill says nothing.

They crest the last dune.

The base camp is abandoned. Destroyed. Buried in sand.

The pyramid is gone.

In its place is…

An alien spaceship.

Shaped like the pyramid, in the exact same place, but larger. Every inch of its surface is ornamented. It's gold. Only the entrance to the pyramid remains.

"Cover me," O'Neill says. "I've got to get to the Stargate."

"But--" Kawalsky says.

He's talking to air. O'Neill is already running.

Kawalsky and Brown run after him.

She runs after them.

#

They find the equipment of the other four commandos scattered through the Main Gallery. Signs of a battle. But not the men themselves.

There are others here. She hears cries, screams, gunfire, and sees… something else. Flashes of blue light illuminate the darkness inside the pyramid.

She's not sure what she sees. Men with the heads of animals?

Are the others dead?

She stands beside a pillar, not knowing where to run.

O'Neill grabs her and yanks her back against him. Takes her hand. Shoves a pistol into it.

"Let's get back to the Stargate."

"I- But why? I can't make it work."

He drags her back up the gallery to where the Stargate is. Down the ramp. Faces her back the way they've come.

"Stay right here and shoot anything that comes down that ramp."

He lights a flare from their supplies. Blinding blue light in the darkness.

"What are you doing?" she asks, panicked and suspicious.

"Just cover me."

They left equipment by the Stargate, and he's tearing through it now, obviously in a hurry. Why?

"What is that?" she demands over her shoulder. In the distance, she hears the sound of their hunters. Gunfire. They're trapped here. "What are you looking for?"

"It's gone," he says, and his voice is… flat.

Where are the people they left here, the ones they came with? Kawalsky, Feretti, Brown, Freeman, Porro? Even Mankiwicz? He shot Anubis, but that doesn't mean she really wants him to die.

As if the thought is somehow a summons, there's a sizzle and a flash of light. The design she saw in the floor earlier -- a silver ring -- is suddenly filled with a column of light and more rings that come from nowhere. The rings appear, disappear, and when they're gone she's staring at two silver-armored …men? One has the head of a hawk, the other a jackal. They're carrying tall weirdly-shaped staffs.

Anubis and Horus both serve Ra.

She points the gun at them. It's shaking.

They point their staffs at her. The ends sizzle with lightning.

"Put it down, Doc," O'Neill says, very quietly. "Put it down."

But she can't. She's terrified. She's never held a gun in her life. It's going to go off in a minute, and then they're going to kill her. It shakes in her hands, wavering violently.

O'Neill comes up behind her, takes the gun from her hands. Sets it down on the floor. "Keep your hands up," he tells her.

The armored jackal and hawk grab both of them. Drag them over to the ring.

There's a flash of light.

They're… somewhere else.

#

Light. Daylight, filtered through fabric. Perfume. Incense.

They're standing before a throne. There are offerings grouped around it. Fruit. Gold and silver. Trays of incense. Children, dressed in the style of Ancient Egypt, cluster around it.

The armored gods knock them to their knees. Suddenly their helmets …peel back. There are human beings beneath, their faces weirdly painted.

A… pharaoh enters.

He is wearing the golden mask that the god-kings of Egypt were buried in. He seats himself on the throne.

She stares, fascinated.

Two more servants enter, carrying a woven tray. They set it at the pharaoh's feet.

This offering is anything but traditional.

But she recognizes it anyway.

"That's a bomb! That's what you were looking for!" She turns to O'Neill, furious, scared, and incredulous. She feels that he's betrayed her and she's not sure why. "What the hell were you thinking? Why did you come here?"

Not to explore. Not to study.

He'd brought a bomb.

_< "You have come to destroy me,>"_ the Pharaoh says in the language she has learned from Sha're. His voice buzzes weirdly. It is inhuman.

Suddenly the golden mask collapses and folds away, just as the hawk and jackal helmets did. Beneath it, he is human too.

But then his eyes glow brightly, in a way no human's can.

The two armored figures abruptly kneel, abasing themselves.

O'Neill grabs the Anubis guard's lance. He fires it.

She jumps to her feet.

"No! Stop!"

They need to talk, find out where the others are. If this is the same Ra from the frescoes…

The Horus guard swings his lance around, aiming it at O'Neill. He doesn't see.

She jumps between them.

Something hits her.

Darkness.

#

She comes to with a gasp.

Her lungs -- long unused -- fill with air.

She's lying in a box.

She sits up, stiffly.

It's like a weird parody of an Egyptian sarcophagus. It looks similar: golden, similar ornamentation. But the inside shines with white light and the whole thing hums faintly.

She remembers the fight in Ra's throne room. Feels for the wound that must be there.

She finds the burn-hole in her clothing. It's just below her heart. But the skin beneath the hole in her robes is smooth, unmarked.

She was dead.

She climbs out of the …sarcophagus… and goes looking around. She knows she has to be in the spaceship that's on top of the Great Pyramid, but everywhere she looks, she sees pillars and ornamentation that would not look out of place in a temple. She can read the hieroglyphs, at least most of them. They are prayers to Ra, poems to his glory and his strength.

Curses upon his enemies.

It's night outside the windows -- there are windows in this spaceship, but everything is so unreal already that it seems perfectly natural -- so several hours must have passed since they entered the pyramid.

Still, a very short trip to the Underworld. No wonder she doesn't remember much.

She finds Ra being dressed and ornamented by his servants amid the flicker of torches.

Why torches on a spaceship?

She has no idea.

She follows Ra to a banqueting chamber. Or possibly bedroom. It's hard to tell. This place is bizarre. It isn't her idea of a spaceship. It's more as if somebody just threw a castle into space. Only it's an Egyptian palace, more or less, and at the moment it's on the ground.

_< "I was dead?>"_ she asks.

Maybe she can get him to talk.

Where are O'Neill and the others?

_< "That is why I chose your race. Your bodies… so easy to repair. You have advanced much since I walked the sands of your world. You have harnessed the power of the atom.>"_ The smooth inhuman beauty of his face -- even without the golden mask -- gives nothing away.

That damned bomb.

Why did O'Neill bring it?

_< "What are you going to do?>"_ she asks.

Ra smiles. His eyes flash. _< "You should not have reopened the Gate. In two days, when the tribute caravan comes, I will send your weapon back to your world with a shipment of our mineral. It will increase your weapon's destructive power a hundredfold.>"_

Ra regards her steadily from across the room, surrounded by his child-slaves, as if wondering what she will do.

She doesn't know what kind of bomb that was. She doesn't know anything about technology. But probably a very powerful one. She knows nuclear weapons are really small these days. Maybe it was a nuclear warhead. If Ra makes it more powerful -- a lot more powerful -- that would be ...bad.

Would it be a big enough explosion to set off the San Andreas Fault?

Bigger?

There are _people_ in Colorado Springs.

_< "Why would you do that?>"_ she asks cautiously. If she can find out why, maybe she can talk him out of it.

_< "I created your civilization, now I will destroy it.>"_

She stares at this creature -- alien, beautiful boy-Pharoah -- and realizes, with the same dawning sense of horror and disgust as if she'd turned over a rock to find a nest of maggots and spiders underneath, that everything she read on the walls back in Sha're's village was true.

She can't talk. Can't negotiate.

This is Ra, who came from the stars to build and enslave Egypt. He took a young boy as his host. Gave him infinite power and eternal life. Enslaved the people of the Twin Lands and worked them without mercy, torturing and killing them as he pleased. Kidnapped thousands more and brought them here to be his slaves.

And now he intends to destroy Earth, if he can.

_< "But before my workers question my authority, you will prove that I am their one God, by killing your companions.>"_

How the hell is that going to prove anything?

She wishes she were brave enough to ask. She isn't.

_< "If I refuse?>"_ she asks instead.

Ra paces closer, until he is standing almost close enough to kiss.

He smells of myrrh.

_< "Then I will destroy you, and all who have seen you. There can only be one Ra.>"_

All who have seen her. That means everyone in the village. Hundreds of people. And then he'll just kill O'Neill and the others himself.

There has to be some way out of this, but she's so scared.

If it was just her that was going to die, she'd be okay, she thinks. But it's Earth -- if not everyone there, then a lot of them -- and a bunch of people -- here, in Nagada -- that she kind of likes. Plus she's on an alien planet and she's just come back from the dead. It's hard to think clearly under these conditions.

He reaches out, cups the golden pendant in his hand. Rips the necklace from her throat.

She bows her head. _< "I submit to your will.>"_

#

They don't bother to guard her that night -- as far as she can tell -- but there's nowhere to run. The slaves sleep on the floor of a dais around Ra. She sleeps among them. Dozes, really, and wouldn't have done that if she hadn't already been awake for twenty-four hours.

Tomorrow she has to choose between executing whichever of the commandos are left alive -- _her!_ \-- and having Ra kill everyone in Nagada.

Either is bad. She doesn't know how to choose. She has the horrible feeling that no matter which she chooses, both will happen anyway. It's like being in a nightmare you can't wake up from.

She's sure Jack O'Neill has the solution to problems like this. Yeah, he'd start by shooting her, then she wouldn't be in this situation.

Oh, god, she wishes he already had.

She wishes Mankiwicz had shot her instead of Anubis.

Soldiers are supposed to like dogs.

Her fault. She brought him with her, and he died.

She was supposed to take care of him.

She never does anything right.

Morning comes. The children offer her food but she can't eat. They are eerily silent.

She wanders through the palace. No one stops her. She looks out the windows. From this vantage point she can see that yes, indeed, the Great Pyramid is part of a more extensive temple complex. There's a building in the distance. Not that it matters now.

Eventually she is led outside.

There is a scarlet canopy erected over the entrance to the pyramid. A throne beneath it. A red carpet upon the temple steps. The sands below are filled with the villagers, all come to witness this demonstration of Ra's power.

Or to be executed if she fails.

She walks out between two guards in hawk armor.

O'Neill, Kawalsky, Feretti, and Freeman are standing on the middle terrace.

No one else?

#

They're the only four left alive of the eight people who walked through the Stargate two days ago -- him, Kawalsky, Feretti, and Freeman -- and it's cold comfort now to know that the threat on this side of the Stargate was worth a bomb and more.

Too bad he never got to set it off.

And speaking of cold comfort, spending the night up to his armpits in a fishtank isn't his idea of fun, either.

He's pretty sure the Doc is dead. He thought he saw her go down in the throne room but he isn't absolutely certain. If she was alive, wouldn't she have been in with them?

It's a long night.

#

O'Neill's eyes widen at the sight of her, and she realizes that he thought she was dead. Well, she was, but it was temporary. Then the Horus guard hands her his staff weapon. O'Neill's mouth sets, and she thinks he's figured it out. She's going to kill him.

She hopes he's figured out why.

Because there are only a few minutes left, and _she can't see any way out._ She even has a weapon in her hand – the guard showed her how to fire the staff weapon they all carry – and it doesn't seem to help.

Four or hundreds. And it should be a clear choice, and it isn't, and she doesn't know why, and _she's running out of time._

Light is flashing in her eyes.

She follows the light to its source. Skaara is flashing something bright in her eyes.

Sha're is standing beside him.

She takes a deep breath.

_Everything I love dies._

And Skaara opens the fold of his robe to reveal a gun.

He must have looted the base camp. The commandos had brought crates full of guns. She saw them.

All the boys from the village are armed.

She whirls and fires back up at the armored guards, light-headed with relief.

A choice. She has a choice.

Panic. Chaos. Ra flees. She thinks she hits one of his guards, but isn't sure.

The sound of gunfire is deafening.

She runs down the steps after the others.

#

The guards open fire as the people scatter, screaming.

Freeman dies.

Everybody is running back and forth in the confusion. O'Neill reappears, wrapped in one of the desert robes to conceal his uniform. He grabs a _mastadge_ and clambers up onto its back, drags her up behind him.

They take off at a dead run. Anywhere but the village. It's the first place Ra will look.

#

She clings to him as the _mastadge_ runs.

"Where are we going?" she shouts.

"Rendezvous. West. Skaara told me."

" _Skaara_ told you?" Skaara doesn't speak English, O'Neill doesn't speak Abydan, and there wasn't time anyway.

"He pointed."

#

After a while the _mastadge_ simply plods.

"Ra said if I didn't kill you and the others, he'd kill everyone in the village."

"Hard choice," O'Neill says after a while.

"I didn't know what to do."

"Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"What you did. There's always another choice."

Maybe for people like him. But how do you figure out what it is in time to do you any good?

There's no water. The sun is hot. She falls asleep against O'Neill's back.

The rising wind wakes her.

She opens her eyes.

Sand all around, and it's dancing on top of the dunes with the rising wind. It's late afternoon. About the time the last sandstorm came.

She sits up straighter. Her muscles hurt from having been sitting spraddled over an alien yak all day. She looks around.

The horizon is roiling. Smoky.

She can already smell sand on the air.

"We're in trouble," she says.

"Aside from being _lost?_ "

"Sandstorm's coming."

But there's nothing they can do except hope they find cover before it hits.

#

They don't.

As more sand is blown on the wind, the _mastadge_ becomes more restless. Finally they can't stay on its back any longer. They slide off and it bolts.

They walk, their backs to the wind, their faces shrouded. The wind keeps getting stronger, knocking her down over and over.

More sand in the wind. More.

After a while, it's too much trouble to get up.

He tries to carry her, but he can't manage more than a few yards.

Wind. Sand.

He lies down in the sand beside her, sheltering her with his body.

The others find them, bring them to the caves.

They were nearly there.

#

There's water in the cave, supplies. She, drinks, washes her face, tries to stop coughing. They're actually not far from the village. Skaara tells her they shelter the flocks here during the storms.

Sha're is here.

She hears shouting, angry words in English.

O'Neill is trying to take the guns away from the boys.

He wants to send them all home.

They can't go home. They're all marked for death now, for rebelling against Ra.

Kawalsky is saying that they can use their help.

"For what?" O'Neill demands. "To do what?"

The bomb.

She turns around, walks over to them.

"Why don't you just tell them? Why don't you tell them about the bomb?"

The other commandoes didn't know. Kawalsky's face tells her that plainly.

"What's she talking about?"

"My orders were simple," O'Neill says quietly. "Look for signs of danger to Earth. If I found any, blow up the Stargate. Well, I found some."

She's seen Ra. Talked to him. It's hard to argue with the danger part.

But…

"Well, your nice big bomb is his now, and tomorrow he's going to send it back to Earth with a shipment of that mineral they mine here. And when it goes off, he says it will cause an explosion a hundred times more powerful than just the bomb could."

O'Neill stares at her for a long moment.

Apparently, from the look on his face, it will be a very big explosion.

"He said that?"

She nods. "Yes. He thinks we're dangerous."

For some reason, that makes O'Neill smile. His eyes are cold.

"Why wasn't I told?" Kawalsky demands.

O'Neill turns away. "There wasn't any reason to tell you, Kawalsky. You weren't even supposed to be here. You were all gonna go right back through with the Doc." There's a long pause. "I was going to stay behind and blow the Stargate."

He came here to _die?_

"It has to be done."

Kawalsky nods. Glances at Feretti. Feretti looks grim, but like he agrees.

They're all crazy.

She still doesn't know how big a bomb he's brought, but it could ... might … won't it destroy Nagada too?

"Look. It's the Stargate on Earth that's the problem. That's the one we have to shut down," she says desperately.

He just looks at her.

Right.

And they have no way of getting there and doing that because she couldn't do her job.

Sha're plucks at her sleeve. _Come away._ She hasn't been able to follow the conversation, of course, but she knows the tones of voice. Angry and desperate.

Dani follows her.

There's a cookfire set up at the back of the cave. Some kind of vegetable stew. Bread. Tea.

_< "You should feed him,"> Sha're says. <"Then he will be kind to you.">_

_< "No. He won't. I needed to do something for him, and I can't do it.">_

Sha're cocks her head. _< "What does he need?">_

A personality transplant.

She sighs. _< "Right now, all he's thinking about is how to get back to the Stargate again. It's very important to him. And I know Ra is looking for him. For all of us. I don't think he can get there.">_

Not alive, anyway.

But he'll try. And Ra will kill him. And send the bomb to Earth.

_< "He must go with the tribute caravan then. When the sand stops, we will go to Nagada and speak to my father. He will send O'Neer and the others with the tribute to the Stargate. Ra will not see him. Ra does not see us,"> she adds sadly. <"One slave looks much like another. And now, you will feed him.">_

Sha're takes a woven tray and sets it beside the cooking pot. Ladles stew into a bowl. Sets bread beside it. Scoops tea into another bowl. Sets the tray into Dani's hands.

_< "Feed him.">_

She has already learned it is difficult to argue with Sha're. She picks up the tray and goes to find O'Neill.

It takes her a while. He is sitting on a rock at the back of the cave, alone.

She kneels down on the ground beside him, offers him the food. He ignores her.

She's tired of him ignoring her.

"So you brought a bomb on a suicide mission. That's, um, well, great. Really. And you were going to send us all home and blow yourself up. Don't you have anyone who cares about you back there? A family?"

Something worth going back to?

Unlike present company.

He looks at her now.

"I _had_ a family. A son." There's a long pause. "No one should ever have to outlive their own child."

She bites her lip, looks away. She recognizes grief when she sees it.

No one should have to bury their child.

No child should watch their parents die before their eyes. Hear their screams. Hear their bones break. Smell their blood. She closes her eyes, shutting the memories out.

No wonder he's here. Grownup Colonels have more options than eight year old girls. She would have done anything to make that pain go away.

Obviously, so will he.

But her pain had …dulled… with time.

It's too damned bad that nobody kept Jack O'Neill away from sharp objects and nuclear warheads until _his_ pain had dulled.

She reaches up, puts a hand on his knee. He looks surprised.

"I don't want to die. Your men don't want to die. And these people don't want to die. It's a damned shame you're in such a hurry to. What about Plan B? You said there's always another choice."

"Give me another choice, then, Doctor."

She can't think of one.

"Eat."

She'll tell him about the caravan later.

She gets to her feet and walks away.

#

Sha're is serving the men and boys. She helps. She doesn't mind. She takes food to Skaara.

He's drawing on the wall with a piece of rock. _Drawing._

She feels like hugging him, but isn't quite sure what the rules are here yet. Even though he is her brother.

_< "What are you drawing?">_

_< "The day of our victory,">_ he tells her proudly.

A pyramid. Three moons. Men with guns.

Wait.

She takes the rock from his hand, kneels down beside him. Draws a line between the moons.

_Yes!_

"This is it," she says in English. "Connect the moons, this is the symbol for this planet. The point of origin. The seventh sign."

It was on the Stargate. It has to be it.

Kawalsky comes over. "Wha'cha doin', Doc?"

She looks up. "I've found it. I've found the seventh symbol. Kawalsky, we can go home."

Kawalksy goes running back into the cave. O'Neill shows up a moment later.

"You found it?"

"Yes!" she says. "It's on the Stargate – see?" Quickly she chalks all seven symbols on the wall. "This is the address for home. The Point of Origin address: it isn't a constellation – it must never be a constellation – it's a landmark…"

Kawalsky yanks her to her feet and hugs her. "You did it, Doc! You did it!"

Skaara pulls her away from Kawalsky. _< "No, no, no!">_

_< "It's all right, Skaara.">_

_< "It is not seemly!">_

_< "No, he's just happy that he can go home. Truly. He meant no offense.">_

Go home.

"What's goin' on, Doc?" Kawalsky asks, looking at her and Skaara.

"You upset my brother."

"Brother?"

"I sort of got… adopted. Sha're and Skaara are my brother and sister now."

"So if I want to date you…?" Kawalsky asks.

"He'd shoot you."

Kawalsky grins at her.

"We still have to get back to the Stargate," O'Neill says, ignoring the byplay.

"Yeah, well, Sha're's got that covered. We just have to convince Kasuf to let us go along with the tribute caravan in the morning. They take the offerings right inside the temple. I'm sure your… bomb… will be there, too."

#

The fight at the temple. She doesn't remember much of it. Just snapshot moments of utter terror.

Firing the gun. It kicks in her hands, jerking up wildly, deafening her. She barely holds onto it. She has no idea whether she hits anything or not.

Getting to the Stargate. The bomb is there. They kill the guards who are going to send it through, but it's already activated, already counting down, and nothing O'Neill does can stop it, though he keeps trying.

She isn't sure – he isn't sure – whether he should stop it or not. They can't let Ra have a Stargate that can reach Earth.

But all those innocent people…

Seeing Sha're die. Knowing she cannot let her be dead, even though they're all about to die anyway. Knowing there is a way to change it. By now she's seen the transport rings work enough times that she knows how to use them, and there is a dead Anubis guard right there. She takes his control device, uses it to take them back to Ra's spaceship. O'Neill shouts at her, but she doesn't listen.

She puts Sha're into the sarcophagus. It closes around her automatically. How long will she have to wait? He said the bomb would go off in seven minutes. She might as well die here as there. At least here, Sha're has a chance.

The sarcophagus opens. Sha're is alive, but dazed; she hasn't been in the sarcophagus long enough to wake fully. Dani drags her back to the transport rings.

Ra is waiting for them there. He touches Dani's forehead with a jewel. It burns, stunning her. She's going to die, and he'll kill Sha're again.

Then she feels the rings begin to activate around her, and just has time to snatch Catherine's pendant from Ra's neck before she's gone again.

The pyramid.

It's shaking.

Sha're scrambles out of the circle.

The spaceship is taking off.

"Oh god," Dani gasps. "He's leaving. He's running away."

She looks at the bomb. The timer is still counting down.

They're going to be dead in less than a minute.

O'Neill looks at the rings, glances at the ceiling. Smiles.

"C'mon, Doc, give me a hand. You were right. It's time for Plan B."

They drag the bomb into the rings.

Activate them.

The bomb vanishes.

Silence.

And suddenly -- even here, in the depths of the pyramid -- she can hear cheering.

#

The three of them walk outside.

There is a new sun in the sky. It fades slowly.

Ra's spaceship. Ra.

Dead.

She looks out across the sand.

The whole village is here. Everyone. They all came, in the end, to fight against Ra.

O'Neill drapes an arm around her shoulders.

"Looks like we won."

"And you got to set off your bomb."

The villagers see them. There's more wild cheering. Those who have weapons brandish them. There's scattered gunfire. She sees Kawalsky and Ferreti. They both made it.

Skaara, Kasuf. Alive.

The three of them walk down the steps of the temple to join the others.

#

There's a big celebration that night back in Nagada. Many have died in the fighting, but the mourning will wait. Tonight they sing and dance and feast to their liberation from the Evil God Ra.

The men and women dance separately, of course. She doesn't know any of the dances, but Sha're makes her dance anyway, spinning her around until she falls, exhausted, onto the divan on the Women's Side. At the other side of the room, she sees Kawalsky and Ferreti clumsily copying the men's steps. O'Neill, of course, isn't dancing. He's sitting with Skaara.

Her brother.

She wants to stay.

She's _going_ to stay.

#

The party goes on very late. The torches burn low, and the elders retire to their beds. She seeks out O'Neill. He's off in a corner, brooding. Typical.

She goes to join him.

"Doc."

She takes a deep breath. "Look. Tomorrow, when you go back--"

" _We_ go back," he corrects her.

"You."

He looks at her, eyebrows raised.

"I want to stay."

Silence.

"Really."

More silence.

"Look. There's… nothing for me back there. Really nothing. I don't have a job, I don't have an apartment, I don't have a… family. I don't even have any friends. Nobody on earth is going to miss me. Here I have… It's Egypt, you know. I've spent my whole life studying it. Now here it is, alive. And I want…"

"You want to stay with Sha're and Skaara."

Beat around the bush a little, why doesn't he?

"Yes."

That's part of it. Some of it. Most of it.

For the first time in her life, she feels like she _belongs_ somewhere.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"One way trip."

"I know."

"What do I tell General West?"

She shrugs. "Tell him I'm dead. Look, we'll bury the Stargate when you're gone. You'll never be able to dial back here again, even if you try. It'll be safe. You can tell him you blew it up, just like you were supposed to."

He thinks about that for a while. Nods.

"Okay, Doc. Now go to bed. You've had a big day."

#

She stands in front of the Dial Home Device, carefully punching buttons by the light of torches. She doubts anybody else appreciates the cognitive dissonance of this moment. Four… five… six… seven…

The Stargate comes to life, shining brightly.

The village elders gasp in awe.

"I always knew you'd get us back," Ferreti says.

_Yeah, right._

She grins at him anyway.

Ferreti walks into the light and vanishes.

"Thanks, Doc," Kawalsky says. He looks like he'd either shake her hand or kiss her, but Skarra is glaring at him. He settles for snapping off a salute.

"Any time, Kawalsky," she says.

He follows Ferreti.

She wonders what they're thinking back in Cheyenne Mountain right now.

"You sure you want to do this?" O'Neill asks her.

"I'm sure." She thinks of one last thing, takes the Ra pendant from around her neck, holds it out to him. "Tell Catherine this brought me luck."

He takes it. Their hands touch briefly.

"You going to be all right?" he asks again.

Of course she will. She has a family now.

"I'm going to be all right. How about you, Jack?"

He smiles, and for the first time it reaches his eyes.

"I think I will. See you around, Doc."

He turns, steps through the light, and is gone.

"Dani," she says. "It's Dani, Jack."

The light -- the wormhole -- vanishes. She turns back to her family.

_< "Tell the workers to bring the stones.">_

Now her life can begin.

#

INTERLUDE:

She's allergic to _yaphetta_ flour.

She can't eat the bread. She can't grind the flour.

She loses almost twenty pounds before she figures it out. The symptoms are similar to a combination of flu and asthma. She's miserable.

Sha're is sorry for her, but thinks it's hysterically funny as well: godslayers shouldn't be trying to grind flour.

Skaara keeps trying to slip the flour into her food, on the theory that she isn't _really_ allergic. And besides… godslayer.

At first, they are the only ones who treat her at all normally. The others scuttle around her as if they are frightened children and she, some horribly-abusive parent, though they are all fond. Even Kasuf will not raise his eyes to her face. Is this what it's like to be treated as a god?

If it is, she doesn't like it.

She's patient. She concentrates on teaching them English, and learning more and better Abydan. The tribal elders will have nothing to do with reading and writing, but she thinks she can convince the youngsters to learn. She's already teaching Sha're and Skaara.

The day is longer here than it was on Earth -- 36 hours long -- her watch is useless except as a curiosity. With three moons in the sky, it's impossible for her to quite figure out the length of a month, but she suspects it's longer too. She marks off days in her journal, not sure if she'll be able to tell when a year has passed. Seasons are subtle in the desert.

By the time the rainy season comes and the desert bursts into life -- her allergies have kicked into high gear and are driving her mad, which entertains everyone but her -- she has been fully accepted into the life of the tribe. She will always be very special to them -- their luck -- but they see her as a person now, and do not flinch away from her as if she were something too holy to approach.

She has delivered three babies by the time the Rains end. All easy births, fortunately.

Her name is Dana're. Her father is Kasuf. Her sister is Sha're. Her brother is Skaara.

She has a home, a family, a place.

Some day -- it will not be so very long, Sha're promises -- she will have children.

#

**Author's Note:**

> Every fanwriter has the ep they keep coming back to in order to saunter down another Road Not Taken. Mine seems to be SGtM, which I've re-done several zillion times. It interlocks with "In A Kingdom By The Sea" and is headcanon backstory for "A Mirror For Observers". 
> 
> It was interesting to experience the movie in terms of strict third person deep POV. I was still learning about Dani's backstory then: I found out here she'd never fired a gun, but it wasn't until many years later that I found out it was because Nick had deep anti-gun feelings. This work in progress is a jigsaw. Or vice-versa...
> 
> When I wrote it, I think I'd just discovered transcripts, but didn't yet own anything I could play a DVD on (remember portable DVD players?). Fortunately, SGtM was one of the few pieces of source material that was available on VHS.
> 
> I think I wrote this in 2007, but I'm not sure.


End file.
